


Don't Worry About It, Cry (PewdieCry) [Remake]

by MilkNPork



Category: Video Blogging & YouTube RPF
Genre: Don't Worry About It, Drama, Effects of Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Life Problems, M/M, Remake, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-17 10:38:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1384480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MilkNPork/pseuds/MilkNPork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We've all heard the famous PewdieCry quote, "Don't worry about it, Cry." But sometimes even the sweetest words can get out of hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Worry About It, Cry (PewdieCry) [Remake]

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Don't Worry About It, Cry (PewdieCry)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1384477) by [MilkNPork](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MilkNPork/pseuds/MilkNPork). 



> A remake of my previous fic with the same title.

"Don't worry about it, Cry."

That was how it began. At first, it was a simple and caring expression, something he would say to soothe my worries while he fixed whatever problem it was that was bothering me. It was sweet of him, really; he didn't want me to stress about anything… but it soon got out of hand.

We had started living together for months now, in a house that we saved up for and was currently paying for every month. It was a great idea, starting fresh and living a new life together with him; I remember when I hugged him tightly, nearly suffocating him as I smiled ear to ear after hearing the news from him: that we had saved enough money to buy a house and live together.

The first days were blissful; the feeling of freedom and happiness that we both longed for was finally at our fingertips. We would still play co-ops, in fact we played a lot of co-ops that the fans started asking us why. Eventually Pewdie revealed our relationship to the bros and YouTube exploded with positive and negative feedback, some even posting their video reactions.

But perhaps that was a mistake. Because of the declaration, we lost a lot of fans and eventually the money we earned on YouTube was not enough to support us both. I remember waking up in the middle of the night to his silent and muffled sobbing. I guess the homophobia did affect him more than it did to me, especially since he used to have millions of bros but now it was down to a few faithful ones who actually loved him for who he was.

Every night I would come to his side, shushing him and embracing his quivering figure as he clung to me like a little child, and in hearing his wails even I would cry myself, trying to soothe him and then I would say…

"Don't worry about it, Pewds."

Who would have thought it would end this way?

Eventually I decided one of us would have to work to support us both. I was hesitant at first when he said he'd go, but then again, he has a point. He can do the chores at home, but he can't cook. So I had to be the one to stay at home, much to my reluctance.

Then just like that, everything was fine again. I would manage our channels, relying on the minimal income from our few faithful fans while waiting for him to come home, and when he did, I would welcome him with a kiss on the cheek before he slumped down the sofa tiredly. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I had somehow fit the role of the wife.

A year had passed since we bought the house. With each day passing by, I noticed his smile slowly faded and he was becoming stressed. And so I offered to exchange with him: this time he would stay at home while I worked for us two. Guess what he said?

"Don't worry about it, Cry. Just let me do it."

But I hated seeing him this way. So I tried to persuade him, insist on letting me do it for him for once, but still he refused. He said he could do it if I gave him a chance.

So I did. I gave him one last chance.

The next day he arrived smiling, and looking as though he wasn't the person I was with yesterday. He was stress-free, chatting and laughing loudly just like back when he was PewDiePie, and not the Felix Kjellberg now who bothered himself with everything, but I knew it was an act. He wanted to show me that I had nothing to worry about, but I knew he was pretending. He was forcing himself to smile for me and that should have made me happy, but I didn't want that. I didn't want to be happy knowing he was feeling the opposite.

As if that wasn't bad enough, he got fired from his job some weeks after. Finally, he took off the happy-go-lucky façade and went home in tears. I rushed to his side and took him in my arms while he choked out his words. "He said I couldn't do the job. It was too much for me, he said. But-but I said I could do it! I could endure it, for us!"

And all I could do was console him, silently hoping that he would finally let himself rest, saying, "Shh… It's okay, Pewds. Don't… Don't worry about it, don't cry. You don't have to do this anymore."

He went silent for the whole evening, and it didn't help to calm my nerves because I was anxious of what he might do now. Even though he finally broke down, Felix has always been known to be stubborn and unpredictable. What if he did something stupid tomorrow? I couldn't let that happen.

Like a parent to his child, I tucked him to bed and kissed him goodnight, whispering an "It's going to be okay." before waiting for him to close his eyes and finally going back to the kitchen to clean the dishes. Eventually, I finished the chores and I went back to his room to sleep beside him.

I woke up alone. He had gotten out of the house, going to who knows where.

Well, 'where' was answered quickly when I received a call from the blonde, hearing a genuine enthusiasm from the other end when he said he had found "just what we needed to support our living". I was given the details when he went home that day, later than usual. Apparently, the new job paid better but of course there was a catch. He was going to get home really late and he said I had to eat dinner without him and leave his own in the fridge.

The cycle repeated. But it was worse. He got home later and more tired, and I willed myself to stay up to at least welcome him home. Sure, we were more stable in money, but it wasn't worth it if he was beating himself up for it.

This was where our fighting started. I tried to tell him to stop, to let himself rest, to let me work, but the asshole wouldn't let me. I was capable, but of course he couldn't see that. I got fed up of him babying me all the time, making me into a fucking woman so I confronted him about it. And since he was so stressed with work all the time, we started to argue.

He stopped sleeping beside me and transferred to the couch, but I couldn't bring myself to get mad at him. Even through the bedroom walls, I could hear his muffled cries. I wanted so much to reach out for him, to comfort him like I always did... but I couldn't. Then the realization hit me.

We were broken.

But it didn't end there. I got a call from an unknown number while he was still at work and I was in the middle of making myself some lunch that I would eat alone.

It was the company he was working for. They said he was in the hospital because he had fallen unconscious.

I should have seen this coming. He should have seen this coming.

I rushed to the hospital, panting and not even caring that my hair was still unkempt, I was still in my pajamas and my stomach was rumbling with hunger. My feet hurt from running, but still I sprinted to his room which the nurse at the front desk had directed me as to where.

The room behind the door was just like a memory. He slept peacefully, the bags under his eyes inferior to the pale, almost silky white complexion that I haven't marvelled at for a long time now. He breathed evenly, relaxedly, a sight I have never seen in a long time.

I sat on the stool beside the hospital bed where he slept, simply admiring the breathtaking sight. It had been so long since I've had a chance to see him like this and... Before I knew it, droplets of tears had made its way from my eyes and stained the white blanket draped over him. I stood up and went to face a window opposite him, sobbing to myself as my back faced him.

Why did we have to endure this much pain, I thought. All we wanted was to live a life together, be happy together... Is that too much to ask?

"Why are you crying, love?"

I whipped around, hearing his croaky voice call out to me. He was looking at me with a smile, a smile I've never seen in a long time. And that was it for me. Like a lost little child that finally found his parents, I rushed towards him, hugging him as I choked out words of relief and love, not even considering that the wires attached to him might be disturbed or something but he didn't seem to mind.

He chuckled at my burst of affection and kissed the top of my head. I pulled away and saw his beautiful smile once more, this time up close. Finally, I found the happiness I had been deprived of deep in his sky blue eyes that was full of emotion. And with that I smiled back at him.

"Are you still going back to work after this?"

He gave my hair a ruffle. "Don't worry a-"

"Don't you fucking say that again." It was a threat, but my tone was far from angry. "I hate it when you don't let me do anything..."

He was silent, and for a moment I thought he was hurt and I considered taking back what I said, but after a long pause, he spoke again. "Okay."

"Hey, Cry?"

"What is it?"

"I love you."

"I love you more, Pewds." I replied, silently thanking whoever was listening to my prayers for giving me a second chance and promising myself that this time, I would do everything to keep us together.


End file.
